In Which Weddings Are More Discussed Than Done
by breadandchoc
Summary: [HowlSophie] Sophie doubts, Howl evades, everything works out. Eventually. [book based]


_Beware OOC-ness. I had the sudden impulse to write HMC fic after 3 years and without the book and had to check up several hazy details such as say, names. XP So yes, something is bound to be wrong._

_Thanks for any feedback. :)_

-

-

'So, want to have the wedding four weeks from now? Nothing too big, of course.'

Somewhere in the background, Michael dropped a glass beaker which shattered almost comically and predictably loudly in the silence. Sophie could see him flame crimson and try to hide himself behind the bench under the pretense of picking the pieces up from the corner of her eye.

Howl ignored the interruption. 'Well?', he pressed, one hand on his hip.

Very business-like, a voice noted faintly in the back of Sophie's mind. She pulled the various confused and mildly terrified pieces of her together. 'What? Oh! Right. Sure! Anything! Erm, how about Ingary, haha. Because that's where we met and all, ha.'

Ye gods, thought Sophie. I'm going to die of embarrassment and I was supposed to be the practical one. She could feel her face reddening enough to rival Micheal's.

Howl appeared to be considering her desperate squawk of a suggestion. 'Hmm… I was thinking Kingsbury but that'll do too. Countryside, I think, with all our guests.'

He smiled at her, one of his_ real_, partially self-conscious smiles that still managed to twinge at her heart in an embarrassingly cliché way. But he's not really happy, whispered that smugly knowing voice through her daze, look! Doesn't that smile look a little forced?

Howl nodded and moved closer, blissfully unaware of the internal turmoil inside her. 'Well, I've got to go down to Kingsbury now. Tell Calcifer he can stay inside the firegate though I'd doubt he want that, in the _open_ air _above_ the furniture and in the special places I've marked with the white chalk. I don't want him to light this place on fire.'

There were his fingers touching her collarbone and hip lightly, a moment of hesitation, then a quick peck by her cheek. Sophie automatically turned her head away at the same time Howl leaned down and immediately felt guilty and dismayed by her reaction.

'Well, see you later then.' He was saying now, seeming unaffected by her unintended rejection. 'I might be back late.'

He lingered a little by the door, fiddling with his cloak before finally leaving. He'd transformed a ragged dish-cloth into a flamboyant silver and blue cloak in remembrance of the suit Sophie had… modified. Sophie highly suspected it was because Howl was an incurable dramatic, but had held her tongue.

Oh dear, she thought dismally. I never held my tongue in the old days. _Old days._ So what day does this make now? Young?

'Sophie? Er, do you want to be alone?' Michael was twisting the cloth in his hands so hard it looked like a dirty rope. He looked so eager to please that Sophie felt sorry for him.

'Nonsense. There's nothing wrong,' she said briskly. 'Go on, just go on about your work. Or,' she said, a brainwave striking her, 'tell me about Martha! When's_ your_ marriage coming up?'

The magic words worked. Michael immediately got that half-proud, half-embarrassed look that plagued all pre-grooms. 'Well,' he said seriously, 'We got all the approval we need already, and of course Letti- I mean, Martha wants you and Lettie to be the bridesmaids…'

Really, thought Sophie miserably, her jaw aching from smiling at Michael's excitement-and she_ was_ really and truly happy for her sister and her (almost!) brother-in-law-, really, I _am_ a practical person. What use have I for flowers and talking and having a proper proposal, oh a _proposal_ like Martha's for?

Huh.

-

'You know,' said Michael shyly. 'You really do look quite different now, but I can still see the resemblance. Prettier of course, much much prettier,' he added hurriedly.

Sophie was caught off guard in her half-hearted peeling of the potatoes. 'Oh, well, thank you.' She laughed. 'I did miss my hair,' she admitted.

'And your heart,' added Calcifer. He was floating above them, whizzing and occasionally swooping to singe their hair just for the sheer fun of it. Howl had good-naturedly enlarged the castle's insides so Calcifer had better swerving space and Michael and Sophie were showing their support by not complaining about their slightly blackened hair ends on the top of their heads. Calcifer, Sophie decided, had earned it.

'Heard you were getting married in a month. Congratulations,' said the fire demon unexpectedly. Sophie looked up to find the flickering blue eyes peering at her interestedly. 'I'm invited, aren't I?'

"I told him,' admitted Michael when Sophie looked at him. 'Is that alright?'

'I'm invited to Michael's one already,' said Calcifer proudly. Sophie ducked away from the orange sparks that fell like miniature shooting stars, another thing to get used to in both Howl's and Calcifer's new-found freedom. 'I promised to keep as low-down as possible and help them light the candles. So, see, I can be useful!'

Sophie was amused, even with her thundering heart. It seemed even young hearts could ache, after all. 'Candles or not, you're invited too, of course,' she managed to say. 'Howl would insist on having you there, and so would I!'

Calcifer preened, sparking orange-yellow dangerously. 'Another wedding!' he gloated. 'Ah…to be free…'

There was a momentary silence of fireplace shadows, the warm golden light from the non-demon fireplace and from the orange-blue glow of Califer above. Sophie's heart was acting strange all by itself again, though this dull thudding was both unfamiliar and familiar.

Of course we're getting married, she thought drearily to herself. I should be happy. Even though it's been only one week- one week!- since Howl's heart was restored and we haven't even_ spoken_ of _anything_ we said to each other on that day till today, I've known Howl for a long time now. I should be happy.

Briefly, Sophie wondered if she really loved Howl.

And Howl doesn't have that groom look that Michael has, you know, the cynical grandmother's voice whispered treacherously.

'Oh, shut up,' said Sophie crossly and ignored the alarmed look Michael gave her. She put down the peeling knife and went over to help Michael pack the generous supplies of roots and beakers Howl had set aside for him. Even the usual wizard's gear of a skull's head and a stuffed crow had been included with the odd encouraging note.

Michael was moving out next week, and she was going to be alone with Howl with only Calcifer watching them.

-

It was nearly morning, and Howl still wasn't back.

Micheal had long gone to bed with a contented smile and muttering lists of things to pack and plan. Calcifer had swooped outside and then came promptly back in again through the fireplace, scattering ash and announcing it was cold and damp in the night air.

After scolding a sulky fire demon, Sophie had retired to the trusty old rocking chair before the fire and listened to Calcifer grumblings die away somewhere above her. Calcifer eventually became a distant blue pulse somewhere in the rafters while Sophie stared at the fire and rocked and rocked. And rocked.

Staring at a plain orange fire wasn't quite as soothing as a fire demon (ironically), so Sophie closed her eyes and waited in the darkness. She wasn't quite sure why she was waiting but she just had a grim determination to hold out until Howl came back.

For some reason, it seemed to matter.

-

It was only because the clock was chiming twelve in deep velvety tones that Sophie woke up, feeling vaguely disappointed in herself and more than slightly panicky. In between the patient _duum duuum_ of the clock, Sophie thought she could hear the slow turning click of the door handle and the sounds of someone trying very inexpertly to move about quietly when it actually made their moving patches of silence seem louder than the dead.

A figure almost doubled-over tiptoed past her chair, intent on getting back to his room.

'Howl?' she croaked.

The figure stumbled loudly, stubbed his toe against the stair and cursed. 'Ack! Ouch! Ouch! Damn!' Then Howl remembered himself and shuffled into the light, injured foot tilted pathetically and dragged behind. 'Sophie?'

Sophie blinked at him. Suddenly she realized she didn't know what she was waiting to say. Howl looked surprised and young in the flickering light, and it occurred to Sophie that maybe Howl was feeling as vulnerable as she was.

'Were you waiting up for me?' he queried. 'Didn't I tell you I was coming back late?'

Defensiveness rose automatically in her, she bristled and straightened her back. 'I _wasn't _waiting for you,' she said sharply. 'I just… fell asleep in front of the fire. It reminded me of older times, that's all.'

Howl smiled uncertainly, one hand raised placating and for some reason, that irritated her all the more. 'All right, all right,' he said soothingly. 'I didn't mean to wake you.'

Sophie tossed her head, then turned away so Howl wouldn't see her flush. I tossed my head, she thought dismally. How childish. Or is that the grandma in me speaking? And why, she thought, feeling even more miserable in the uncomfortable shuffling sounds Howl was making now to cover up the stillness, why is it so_ awkward_ with him now?

'You sure you weren't waiting for me?' Howl's voice said hopefully.

'No! I mean, yes I'm sure!' snapped Sophie. For a moment she wished he was drunk; she could deal with a drunk Howl, at least. 'Just… go to bed. I'm tired.'

She heard him sigh, mutter something under his breath. 'Sophie…', he started appealingly, and she could imagine him coming forward with arms open, wounded puppy look and ready to use his _smile_ on her. She didn't look around, her back as stiff as when he came in. I'm _not _one of his girls, she said to herself viciously. I'm _not._

Am I?

Her silence was dampening when her denials were not. She heard him halt and linger uncertainly. 'Good night, Howl,' she said firmly, proud that her voice sounded so steady and cool.

There was a pause, another sigh and then, 'Good night, Sophie', and then more of the roaring silence.

After an eternity and an aching back, Sophie dared to steal a peek over her shoulder. The shadows were cool and empty with no trace of Howl. Sophie wondered glumly how he'd managed to get upstairs without the floor creaking and with his no doubt exaggeratedly limping foot.

Something cackled above her, breaking her thoughts. 'Well, talk about tension. Your voice is much clearer then it was before, you know.' She looked up to find Calcifer grinning at her, every inch an amused fire demon. 'He's hopeless, isn't he,' Calcifer said amiably. 'Better give up on him now!'

'Oh, be quiet,' Sophie said distractedly. Her room – freshly made up- was just a few feet away but right now she didn't feel like moving. She felt anti-climatic, as if she had been hoping for something more and the anxious knot in her stomach was tightening further for not being able to let loose. 'I'm going to sleep now,' she told Calcifer. 'Don't frizzle my hair.'

Calcifer hissed sulkily. 'Howl's not the only one at fault,' he hissed as he floated upwards again.

Sophie shut her eyes and tried to sleep. I _am_ happy, she reminded herself wretchedly. So why aren't I?

-

In the morning, Howl was gone. Sophie was too tiredly grumpily to even convince herself that she was happy.

She helped Michael pack more of his stuff before the trapped, tight feeling in her chest finally made her give up. Calcifer was out enjoying his freedom, and she found listening to Michael sigh and talk merrily about Martha made her even more doleful.

I can't even work up any energy for my own sister, Sophie realized. I am a Terrible Sister.

No, you're just Hurt, sniped the voice.

'I'm going out for a bit,' she told Michael, who nodded absentmindedly. 'I won't be back for lunch.'

She turned the door knob and found herself in the rolling hills way behind Market Chipping. The green grass went on and on, and she soon found herself walking at a spirited pace, the castle fading to a grey blur in the sky behind her.

She was enjoying herself so much, the fresh air sharp in her nostrils and the rhythmic swing of her legs that she almost walked over Howl lying with his hands behind his head in the grass.

'Wha- Howl? What are you doing here?'

Howl looked just as astonished as she felt. 'Me? What are you doing here? I was just watching the clouds.'

Sophie glanced up at the clouds. They stood out like fluffy spools of cotton in the blue sky, a remarkably unremarkable sight. She stood awkwardly over Howl, feeling as if she blundered into something private.

'Well, I was just walking. I thought you'd be in Kingsbury,' she admitted.

Something similar to panic flashed across Howl's face. 'You're not running away again, are you?' he said anxiously. 'You're not leaving me?'

Sophie laughed and the knot in her stomach eased a little. 'No, I told you- I'm just walking.' She sat down beside Howl, who was already sitting up with one elbow in the grass, and smiled at him. Somehow the unease between them over the week wilted away under the sun and got lost in the breeze.

Howl smiled back, that boyish self-conscious smile of relief. Sophie wondered at how she never really realized how young she and Howl was. She'd so determinedly ignored age when she was old that it somehow carried through and affected her perspective on everything, so that even a national wizard as young as Howl didn't seem quite that amazing.

'So… we're still getting married, aren't we?' Howl asked awkwardly.

Sophie hesitated. Howl looked depressed, and one hand reached out hold her wrist as if preventing her from fleeing. His touch reminded her of when she saw him proposing to Lettie in the garden, and she remembered what a good actor he could be. He'll slither out of this too, she thought wearily. Once he gets me to say yes. If I was smart, I'd be the one who leav--

_Don't lose your head, now_.

--es first. Sophie paused. The voice of the older her quieted down again; she could feel it watching her from the back of her mind.

Howl was watching her closely too; her wrist was getting almost painful now. Then Sophie realized why he looked different.

'You didn't make your hair up!' she exclaimed, surprised. 'And,' she sniffed him and Howl moved back, alarmed, 'no perfume either! The bathroom _was _dry this morning…'

Howl looked bemused. 'Did you want me to? I didn't feel like it today.'

Sophie stared at him. 'You? Didn't feel like it? Howl, are you feeling alright?'

Now he looked annoyed, angry almost. His fingers were biting into her wrist. 'Are you going to say yes, or not?' he asked brusquely instead.

-

He's scared, Sophie realized. Howl is _scared._ _Howl._

When was the last time she saw him really scared?

Oh. Right.

-

'What do you want me to say?' Sophie found herself asking.

Howl's shoulders slumped. He withdrew his hand. 'Whatever you want,' he sniffed, suddenly cold and unfriendly. 'Just thought I should ask.' Sophie recognized the signs but her anger wasn't the type to go frosty like his. We can't _all_ be high and mighty, she thought angrily.

'Well, that's good!' She said furiously and suddenly she was standing. 'I'm glad you actually thought to _ask_ because you know, marriage is quite a big thing where I come from! Martha's getting married and at least Michael, your _apprentice,_ had the decency of telling her beforehand instead of suddenly arranging the wedding date one day when WE'VE BEEN IGNORING EACH OTHER FOR ONE WEEK NOW!'

For a moment Howl dropped his icy act and looked angry too, as if he would jump up and bawl right back at her. Sophie's chest was heaving and the tightness in her chest was squeezing her so much she could barely breathe. So it's finally come down to this, she thought weakly. I have to say it.

'Howl, I think it'll be best if we bo-'

Of course, she thought indignantly, distantly, he _would_ slither out of that too. Howl never was one for confrontations.

Howl pulled back, an unrepentant grin pulling his lips. He shrugged. 'But it worked, didn't it?' he said, as if she wasn't sprawled and dazed across his lap. 'I mean, not being able to talk to you properly for a week was terrible. I had to know if you still cared.'

Fiend, cackled the voice. Sophie was too dazed to listen. 'Why didn't you just tell me from the beginning?' she said.

Howl stared blankly at her. 'Why didn't you?' he countered. 'You didn't even react when I first asked you about the wedding dates. You wound me, Sophie,' he added reproachfully.

I should be angry with him, Sophie thought hazily. He's looking too pleased with himself and knowing him- which I do, too well-, he'll be crowing about this for weeks.

But when there were his fingers gingerly touching her collarbone and hip again, she didn't turn away when he leaned down.

'Well, finally,' Howl smiled. And kissed her again.

_/ende._


End file.
